Ceremony
by andesandsea
Summary: We all have our secrets and we all have our reasons. Not because we want them but because we need them…though we crave otherwise.                  A/N: Revisited and revised.


**Ceremony**

Disclaimer: _"Disclaimify!"_

This just popped out of nowhere while I was listening to "Ceremony" - _New Order_ from the Marie Antoinette Soundtrack. God I love that movie. This is NOT a songfic. Hope you guys enjoy the read. I understand that I also have a very unfinished fic. I'll get around to it sometime, and thanks to _hogwartsismydrug_, that was a very sweet and understanding review, I really appreciate it.

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A/N (08-12) – This story has been revised and edited. As you may have noticed it is the only one from my old stories I chose to keep. I hope you enjoy the improvements.

For more information on upcoming fics and other fanwork please visit my profile.

Now with no further ado:

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"Constant cravings, that's what I suffer from."

A young redheaded girl was lying on the soft grass, head resting on a young boys lap as she twirled a dandelion in her hand.

The boy's brow furrowed, "constant cravings of what pray tell?"

"Of everything," she noted, turning around, "I am a very unsatisfied witch." Grinning she blew at the dandelion, the feathery flecks gathering around his face.

He swatted at the seeds, fast and sharp movements, feigning annoyance. "Wanting to weasel yourself through life is that it?" She stuck her tongue out at his jab.

"I knew you had it in you, being so poor." He taunted as he picked a spray of green wheat from her hair and ran a hand down her cheek. "Do you fancy some well-tailored robes, a pocketful of galleons for treats bought on a whimsy?" She nudged his hand away teasingly.

"Or better yet," he paused and raised his eyebrows suggestively, "a wealthy family name?" He laced his hands with hers, "that would make you happy you say?"

She shook her head as she giggled, "not quite."

A brief burst of laughter escaped the blonde, "of course not."

"I crave for things I need, and you bloody well know that isn't it you pompous ferret." She kneeled closer to him, faces inches away and smiled, "but something else might be."

"Something like this," he closed the distance, whispering the words on her lips.

"Maybe," and with that they kissed, slowly, tentatively…

They parted and sat back down, beneath the oak at shores of the lake. Its sparse autumn awnings spotted their faces with partial light, one head a fiery mane the other wispy and white.

"Are you any more satisfied now?" asked the latter as the girl reached to help him adjust his tie.

Her eyes were sad and sombre as she looked up at him, "no."

He stiffened, he knew this look; she always did this. Why didn't he learn? She was bad, bad for him. She was always unstable, always unsure, all for her protection, all for his. It was frustrating how carefree she was with everyone else but so guarded with him. A schemer, tactical with her moves; she should have been a Slytherin.

But she wasn't and she couldn't be because her motives were pure, her intentions sincere. He looked away; he didn't want to hear what she had to say. He knew it off by heart.

It was a Saturday afternoon and most of the students were still at Hogsmeade. That's why she didn't shy away from the sun today, why they were out, conversing almost casually. Nobody could see them.

It was wrong; he wasn't supposed to care about this girl, this common filth, this blood traitor. Even the insults were now alien to his mouth, he couldn't taste the sweet victory of hurting her, because it didn't hurt her and he didn't want to.

He could still hear her muttering her reasons of not wanting to start this relationship, of how it hurt her and how much she craved for it, for him.

She knew he wasn't listening but felt compelled to continue. She knew he knew what she was saying, that time was running out and it would be fruitless to start a game they've already lost. But she needed to say it, not for him, but for her. She needed to convince herself that she was right.

He felt her fold-up his sleeve and lightly trace the counter of his tattoo, his scar, his mark.

"You know I never wanted it," his voice was low, pleading for forgiveness.

"I never blamed you, you know that – but now that you have it, we're not the only ones in danger. If anybody knew, my entire family, the order, everyone would be exposed –"

"I would never let that hap–"

She pressed her index finger on his lips. She couldn't bear it, his begging and his reasoning. She didn't want a reason to doubt her decision. Things were better left black and white.

He kissed the tip of her finger and slowly pulled away her hand, "we still have time."

"Only a month before you graduate, this is ridiculous, there is too much at stake."

_Too much at stake, too much at stake…_That is all she ever said. She wasn't willing to sacrifice for them. He knew it was easier for him, he had nothing to lose, no one to leave behind while she had her entire family, everyone who loved her. He was furious though, she didn't even try, just led him on. He needed to know, he was sick of waiting.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the ground and kissed her, this time rough, needy and passionate. She didn't object, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his hair. One of his hands was tangled in hers, the other digging into her hip. It wasn't sweet, it was bitter and impatient.

Abruptly he stopped and looked straight into her eyes, "Tell me, Ginny, tell me you don't care and that this doesn't matter. Tell me that what you would lose is greater than anything that I could ever give you. Tell me that sacrificing is not worth it. Tell me you won't be satisfied. Tell me you don't crave this!"

She stared back, tears threatening to fall. They never did, she never cried, she was too strong. Slowly, as she pondered, her expression changed – but not into what he expected. He expected her to become cold or guarded, that he could take knowing she didn't mean it but this was worse. Her eyes softened and a weak smile stretched her lips as she sighed.

"I know what will happen, Draco and I – I think we should forget this."

With that she pushed him off and stood, dusting her skirt and averting her eyes. She gathered her cloak and turned to leave back towards the castle for dinner, not looking back.

He stood as well and faced the lake as a sudden rush of emotion drowned his senses. He turned on his feet and hit the bark of the tree with his fist as he hid his face on his forearm, muffling his scream.

She might know a lot, but what she didn't know, what she didn't get, was that he craved too. He craved her.

...

PS: I crave reviews (:

**andes & sea.**


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